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Mike Haskew

Custom Flipper-Folders: Art Of The Flip

Aesthetically and mechanically challenging flipper designs that shine.

The flipper folder is one of those knife designs that continues to delight its makers and its owners with incredible vitality. Not only do the most recent flipper folders fill the traditional bill with great materials, mechanics and mesmerizing beauty, but they further garner high praise with an inherent level of energy.

Combining the attributes of excellence that set standards for custom knives with the sheer pleasure of smooth operation, the latest flipper folders hit the mark in quality and bring attention to their makers amid an ever-growing level of interest in the marketplace.

Scott Gallagher: Feather Damascus

Scott Gallagher says he’s seen an upswing in the interest in flippers in recent years. It makes sense with works like his feather damascus flipper. The feather pattern defines both blade and bolster, and is complemented by a fossilized mammoth ivory handle. (Jocelyn Frasier image)
Scott Gallagher says he’s seen an upswing in the interest in flippers in recent years. It makes sense with works like his feather damascus flipper. The feather pattern defines both blade and bolster, and is complemented by a fossilized mammoth ivory handle. (Jocelyn Frasier image)

Scott Gallagher recently completed a beauty with a 3-inch feather damascus flat-ground blade complemented by a damascus bolster and fossil mammoth ivory handle. With an overall length of 7¼ inches, Scott’s flipper folder features an upswept curve for fantastic visuals and intricate filework along the spine.

“I am receiving more requests for flippers right now,” commented Scott. “They have become very popular. I think the reason why is because they’re fun to use, kind of like a widget—they’re functional, they can be embellished and they are easy to carry.”

The single attribute of fun helps set the flipper folder apart from other designs. Anything incorporating fun into the knife equation is sure to gain increased attention. Still, Scott makes his flipper folders with exacting specifications and attention to detail. “A quality flipper should have a blade steel that performs well—good fit, finish and symmetry,” he explained. “The blade should close in the center of the frame. It should be fast opening and close easily without a sticky lock.”

For Scott, achieving the proper mechanics involves a combination of precise construction with materials that work in concert with each other. “Making the flipper tab is a matter of incorporating it into the design of the knife in the design phase,” he related. “In the closed position, the tab has to sit higher than the frame so your index finger can access it. I use bearings on my flippers. They are ceramic and very fast. To avoid pinching the user’s hand, I use a small tab. It’s only exposed enough to open the blade. My flipper tab is hidden in the frame in the open position. I have finger grooves designed into the frame to avoid fingers slipping forward.”

Alan Hollerbach: Spectre

There’s something ominously attractive about what Alan Hollerbach achieves with this knife. Christened the Spectre—an homage to the nemesis organization of James Bond—the wasp-wasted flipper gets right to the point. Baker Forge TigerMai steel for the blade and Fatcarbon Dark Matter scales add to the knife’s dark good looks. (SharpByCoop image)
There’s something ominously attractive about what Alan Hollerbach achieves with this knife. Christened the Spectre—an homage to the nemesis organization of James Bond—the wasp-wasted flipper gets right to the point. Baker Forge TigerMai steel for the blade and Fatcarbon Dark Matter scales add to the knife’s dark good looks. (SharpByCoop image)

When customers consult with Alan Hollerbach on the attributes of a quality flipper folder, his response is straightforward. “Look for high-quality materials—hardened washers and bearings, a smooth action and a solid detent,” he offered. “I don’t take orders. I make knives I like and hope others do as well.”

The degree of knifemaker proficiency is tested somewhat further with the flipper folder in comparison to other designs. Alan welcomes the opportunity to put his skillset to the test. “It takes some more designing up front to get the layout and how it looks and the action correct,” he related. “The tab needs to be in a comfortable position for one-handed opening, tall enough to engage easily, but not too tall it looks out of place. It needs to have a strong detent to allow proper pressure to fire the blade and a smooth action with the bearings to allow the blade to open with minimum friction.”

Alan achieves his technical and aesthetic objectives in a handsome flipper folder model he has christened the Spectre, in reference to the James Bond feature film series. This example includes a 4-inch hollow ground blade of Baker Forge TigerMai Chevron damascus steel with jeweled and anodized titanium liners and Skiff bearings with hardened washers. Handle scales are Fatcarbon Dark Matter with 18 inlays in nine different sizes of Space Coral. The backspacer is also Fatcarbon Dark Matter, and the screws are black anodized titanium.

Rising interest in flipper folders is a matter of likes and style, as Alan sees the buying landscape these days. “I think it is a personal preference,” he commented. “I like the flippers for easy one-handed opening, but you can do the same with most other ways. It takes some more designing up front to get the layout and how it looks with the correct action. I like the lines as clean as I can make them, so tabs are just to open the knife, as I try to hide as much as I can when the knife is open, just for aesthetics.”

The addition of a hole in the Spectre blade gets attention as well. “You can open the knife with the hole, but it was designed for aesthetics mainly,” Alan noted. “I wanted to smooth the lines of the knife in the closed position and show with the curves of the cutout it was done on a pantograph by hand.”

Robert Champion: Dark Wind

Robert Champion spends plenty of time perfecting the placement of the deployment tab. On his Dark Wind, he employs a low-profile tab to avoid pinching when the blade is deployed. Also noteworthy on this knife, the knock-out engraving by Dale Bass that takes the work to another level. (SharpByCoop image)
Robert Champion spends plenty of time perfecting the placement of the deployment tab. On his Dark Wind, he employs a low-profile tab to avoid pinching when the blade is deployed. Also noteworthy on this knife, the knock-out engraving by Dale Bass that takes the work to another level. (SharpByCoop image)

Examining the locking mechanism is a must for those contemplating an investment in a quality flipper folder, a tip Robert Champion emphasizes. “A 3-point constraint is better than a 2-point constraint,” he said. “A 3-point will lock the knife more securely in the open position as well as in the closed position. The blade should lock solid, not be loose and never have a sticky lock.”

Robert’s Dark Wind model exemplifies his perspective on the flipper folder. Its 6-inch blade features hollow ground Dragonskin Damascus steel from Shaya Forge, while the furniture is in 416 stainless steel and the handle scales are fashioned from giraffe bone. Dale Bass’ engraving complements the piece in its entirety.

“I’m receiving more and more requests for flippers,” Robert remarked, “especially the more dressed and upscale models. Their popularity seems to be trending up. They’re easier to deploy and in regions where automatics are not permitted, the flipper is a great option. The flipper tab is an integral part of the tang design that is easily roughed in while profiling the blade. Thumb pegs and discs are separately fabricated components that require drilling, tapping and a turning process on a lathe. Then, they are attached to the blade. Tab location is important when designing a flipper. Placing it too far forward or too far back on the tang will cause inefficient deployment.”

Bringing all these components together in proper tolerance with respect to the look and feel of the finished product provides a worthy test for the makers of flipper folders. Like any folder, smooth deployment and ease of carry rise to the top. However, the flipper aspect brings another dimension to the requirements for optimal performance.

“Depending on the size of the knife, I use good-quality stainless or ceramic ball bearings,” Robert advised. “I tend to use stainless bearings on my smaller models, but that is just a personal preference. I also use dry slide oil lubricant. I design a low-profile tab to prevent pinching and currently make single-tab models. In the future, I plan to make flipper daggers that will have more of a guard-type tab.”

John Curran: Alpha 3

John Curran has focused much of his work on flipper folders and his experience in this design shows in his Alpha 3. Clean and complex, the knife pairs a titanium handle with an Elmax steel blade, featuring caged bearings for absolute, buttery-smooth deployment. (SharpByCoop image)
John Curran has focused much of his work on flipper folders and his experience in this design shows in his Alpha 3. Clean and complex, the knife pairs a titanium handle with an Elmax steel blade, featuring caged bearings for absolute, buttery-smooth deployment. (SharpByCoop image)

John Curran created a flipper folder in a model he calls Alpha 3 with a flat ground 3-inch blade of Elmax steel and an overall length of 7½ inches with a titanium handle and frame. The flipper design has been a mainstay of his work for some time.

“I’ve predominantly built flipper-style folders over the years, though I’ve done my share of thumb-stud and thumb-hole deployments as well,” he related. “In terms of trends, I haven’t noticed interest in one style rising or falling dramatically. What I have noticed is that customers are spending more carefully. People know what they want and they are choosing their purchases very intentionally.”

As John tries to fulfill his customers’ expectations, he watches the intricacies of the flipper folders he constructs carefully. “From my perspective, flippers don’t necessarily hold an advantage over other deployment methods,” he commented. “It really comes down to personal preference. Some customers want a classic flipper, others ask for a flipper paired with a thumb stud and some want a hole cut into the blade as an alternative opening method. There is no single best option, just what feels right in the user’s hand.

“The complexity of the build depends on the design more than the deployment style,” John continued. “I spend a lot of time sketching concepts only to discover during mock-ups certain ideas don’t translate well in hand. I typically prototype in G-10 or even wood to check ergonomics, mechanics and overall fit. That stage tells me a lot about whether the knife is going to meet my standards.”

John’s basic components include caged bearings and hardened stainless washers for smooth action. “If a customer wants to keep the cost down, I can build the knife without bearings and use phosphor bronze washers instead,” he advised. “Ceramic bearings undeniably offer the smoothest action, but bronze washers still perform well. It ultimately depends on what the customer values most. Milling pockets for the bearings adds time and labor and is reflected in the final price.”

Design concentrations on clean, reliable opening mechanisms and functional finger guards when the blade is deployed are hallmarks of John’s finished product. The challenge is always in the “tweaking” to solidify the geometry, but the result is worth the investment of time and effort.

The flipper folders emerging in the custom knife market today offer diverse profiles, materials and interpretations along with a wide range of price points. Each of these factors influences the consumer and makes the genre vibrant.

More On Flippers:

Bowie Knives: Lingering Legacy Of The All-American Design

Truly an American design, the bowie continues to inspire today’s makers.

While its roots may be from across the sea, ties to the makers of old Sheffield and elsewhere, the bowie is today distinctly American. And it has been for more than two centuries.

Made famous by BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Jim Bowie and the fabled Sandbar Fight, no doubt present at the Alamo where Americans fought and died for freedom, and seen in countless photos of soldiers going to war—posing with the burly bowie in a proud moment—the iconic knife was also immortalized on the silver screen with the classic The Iron Mistress and other films. There is no other style of knife that more clearly defines the American spirit.

“Bowies are the quintessential American knife, deeply steeped in the mythos of our collective history,” observed ABS journeyman smith Matt Parkinson of Dragon’s Breath Forge. Shawn Shropshire of SDS Knifeworks agrees. “The bowie is the most iconic or at least the most recognized of American knife designs,” he said. “At the time of the Sandbar Fight, there was no single pattern that was called a ‘bowie knife.’ It varied in size, blade shape and even materials. Cinema later created what most people now recognize as the bowie knife, something with a large blade, clip point usually, with a double guard.”

ABS master smith Lin Rhea commented, “I do indeed believe the bowie knife is America’s knife design. It was created to fill a need. The country was expanding and was very wild and without law and order. The average traveler in the lawless wilderness needed a reliable defense weapon that could be carried on their person, that never misfired and was less conspicuous than a sword. The fact that a large knife was used in self-defense by Jim Bowie in the infamous Sandbar Fight just boosted the design into the realm of legend.”

Wrapped up in fact, fiction, myth, legend and lore, the bowie is a constant in the theme of adventure and survival. Although it does exhibit common attributes—among them impressive size—across the design, there are variations on the theme. To this day, the bowie remains a favorite form of expression for custom knifemakers who tip their creative cap to the history of the design and imprint their own skill, expertise and perspective on this truly American blade.

Barbary Coast Bowie

Matt Parkinson’s California-style bowie is deadly dapper. He describes it as “graceful and sleek,” featuring his own wootz steel and sterling silver bolster, pommel and guard. (SharpByCoop image)
Matt Parkinson’s California-style bowie is deadly dapper. He describes it as “graceful and sleek,” featuring his own wootz steel and sterling silver bolster, pommel and guard. (SharpByCoop image)

Parkinson chose the San Francisco theme to highlight his take on the classic bowie. Representative of the days of the Barbary Coast and the rough-and-ready youth of a nation stretching from sea to shining sea, the idea captivated him.

“I have long been intrigued with the California- or San Francisco-style bowie,” he remarked. “They are graceful and sleek in a way that many bowies are not. In designing this particular piece, I looked at as many examples of this style as I could, both originals and contemporary. I didn’t copy anything but tried to match the design cues I saw in the originals that made them so iconic.”

Matt’s San Francisco Bowie features a 6.25-inch blade, an overall length of 11.75 inches, a bone handle and generous applications of stylized silver in shell and pin. “The blade is forged from my own wootz steel,” he noted, “and the bolster in front of the guard was cast, as was the shell pommel, and the guard and frame are all fabricated from sterling silver.

“One of the things I most admire about the California style bowies is the uniquely American lineage. Much of the bowie styles we think of are influenced by the Sheffield and London makers …This isn’t the case with the California makers. The knife they made for the 49ers used local materials and was a show of wealth, as much jewelry as a weapon. I kept these ideas in mind in making this one. The cow bone was a logical choice and a nod to local materials, as was the choice of sterling silver over nickel.”

Antiques Actualized

Aiming for historical accuracy circa-1830 style, father-daughter makers Josh and Karis Fisher pull off this dynamic duo. Josh’s bowie (left) was inspired by an original Schively-Perkins piece, while Karis (right) crafted a rendition of the Daniel Searles bowie. (SharpByCoop image)
Aiming for historical accuracy circa-1830 style, father-daughter makers Josh and Karis Fisher pull off this dynamic duo. Josh’s bowie (left) was inspired by an original Schively-Perkins piece, while Karis (right) crafted a rendition of the Daniel Searles bowie. (SharpByCoop image)

The father-daughter ABS master smith duo of Josh and Karis Fisher share their own interpretations of the bowie with a pair of stunning knives touching the past. Each took inspiration from circa 1830 bowie designs: Josh the Schively-Perkins and Karis a Daniel Searles.

“I kept my reproduction similar to the original and as close in size as I could, so it would look and feel like the real knife,” Karis said. “I was mostly working from photographs, which made studying overall design really important. I also made a few changes to incorporate my own style. I left off the original silver pins and did hand checkering instead. I also changed the ferrule and butt cap. I didn’t use silver wraps. Instead, I used a combination of liners and spacers to match the original while adding my own style.”

“A few techniques that I used on my bowie were hand-checkered African blackwood on the handle and the silver ferrule and butt cap that I had to silver solder together, which was a challenge. It’s definitely a functional knife,” Josh reported. “While it’s on the larger side, it’s very well balanced due to the silver wraps on the ferrule and pommel.”

Capturing the notion of the bowie’s place in Americana, Josh related that his work in 80CrV2 carbon steel and sterling silver is true to such spirit. “It is a reproduction of an actual antique bowie knife,” he stated. “In my opinion, a bowie is a large fixed-blade knife, at least 10 inches in blade length, that is on the thicker side. I think typically they should have a clip point, but there are some exceptions as you can see in mine and Karis’s bowies.”

Small & Spruce

James Fleming’s gentleman’s bowie is diminutive in comparison to others but no less representative of the style. The damascus blade is complemented by an ancient walrus ivory handle with a nickel silver spacer and Parkerized steel bolster. Overall length: 11.5 inches. (Jocelyn Frasier image)
James Fleming’s gentleman’s bowie is diminutive in comparison to others but no less representative of the style. The damascus blade is complemented by an ancient walrus ivory handle with a nickel silver spacer and Parkerized steel bolster. Overall length: 11.5 inches. (Jocelyn Frasier image)

Working at Wasteland Forge, ABS journeyman smith James Fleming has produced a gentleman’s bowie, diminutive in comparison to others but no less representative of the style. The 6.5-inch damascus blade is complemented by an ancient walrus ivory handle with a nickel silver spacer and Parkerized steel bolster for an overall length of 11.5 inches.

“I wanted to make a knife that capitalized on the mosaic damascus pattern,” James explained. “I think the gentleman’s vest bowie complements the pattern. The knife is pretty recognizable as a bowie. It’s not as large as a regular bowie but has the same look and purpose. It fits the term ‘vest bowie’ perfectly. It is small enough to be concealed but large enough for defense in any western saloon. This is the kind of knife you’d see stabbed into a poker table after accusing someone of cheating at cards!”

The damascus pattern came from Fleming’s experimentation with Mareko Maumasi’s pattern-making process. He named it “Nazar,” which translates from the original Turkish as “evil eye.” He added, “I was also inspired by Lin Rhea in the way he makes his fittings. The nickel spacer is domed around the guard and bottom spacer, and it’s hammer textured to give it a nice look and feel in the hand.”

Mammoth Achievement

Attracted to larger bowie designs, Gene Kimmi pulls it off with a giant gem. Featuring ladder-pattern damascus—fashioned from dies he made himself—the 15.25-inch behemoth is further bespoke with a crosscut mammoth tusk handle. (Jocelyn Frasier image)
Attracted to larger bowie designs, Gene Kimmi pulls it off with a giant gem. Featuring ladder-pattern damascus—fashioned from dies he made himself—the 15.25-inch behemoth is further bespoke with a crosscut mammoth tusk handle. (Jocelyn Frasier image)

Gene Kimmi was intentional with his contribution to the bowie’s visual discourse. “I have always had a liking for the larger bowie knives,” he remarked. “When I made some laddering dies for my press, I knew one of the first knives I would make out of ladder-pattern damascus would be a large bowie. This one has some clam-shell type filing on the guard that I haven’t done before. The handle is heirloom/museum fit to the guard also.”

Gene’s bowie features the ladder damascus in a 9 7/8-inch blade and crosscut mammoth tusk handle with G-10 black pinning for an overall length of 15.25 inches. “The design is easily recognizable,” he asserted. “Anyone who sees it instantly thinks bowie. The lightness and the fit to the hand are attributes that everyone who handles it comments on. The uniqueness of the mammoth tusk handle adds to the beauty of the damascus. When I think of a bowie knife, I see a straight-backed blade of at least 6 inches. Limits can be pushed on the style and attributes of a bowie, maybe because of the mystery of the bowie knife’s beginning.”

User-Friendly Fighter

Shawn Shropshire wanted a bowie that not only looked sharp but also worked with the user. What he cooked up was this stag-handled beauty. With a 7.5-inch blade of 1084 carbon steel and a user-friendly bronze guard, the knife is easy to carry and manipulate. (Jocelyn Frasier image)
Shawn Shropshire wanted a bowie that not only looked sharp but also worked with the user. What he cooked up was this stag-handled beauty. With a 7.5-inch blade of 1084 carbon steel and a user-friendly bronze guard, the knife is easy to carry and manipulate. (Jocelyn Frasier image)

The famed Randall Model 1 provided some context for Shropshire to fashion his bowie of a 7.5-inch, 1084 carbon steel blade and stag handle with bronze bolster and an overall length of 12 inches. The proprietor of SDS Knifeworks blended the pattern with a desired functionality.

“I love making the larger versions of the bowie knife that many people think of, but as much as I enjoy them, they just aren’t very practical,” he reasoned. “This size and style is much more useful and easier to carry. It’s still a classic-looking pattern and functional without being so large that it is cumbersome and difficult to carry. I love the classic-looking lines paired with the look and feel of natural stag.”

After perusing photos of historical blades and the work of other makers, along with hours using a sketch pad, Shawn was pleased with the result. “In my opinion, this particular blade would have been right at home during the mid-to-late 1800s and at any time considered a bowie knife,” he advised. “I think most people today might refer to it more as a fighter because our notions of what a bowie knife is have been heavily influenced by cinema. The movies usually represent bowie knives as larger than life. Some were but many were not. I do think this blade hints at the history of what an American bowie is with the overall shape and the stag grip without instantly screaming ‘bowie knife.’”

Throughout the creation of his bowie, Shropshire kept user friendliness front and center. Aside from visual appeal, he designed it for easy carry with shorter “legs” on the guard and a coined spacer to help break up the smooth lines it exhibited.

The Legend Continues

The bowie theme lives—in thought, folklore and tangible craftsmanship. Staying true to its American heritage, the style has gained lasting fame and a following the world over.

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Bob Loveless’ Influence Still Touches Those Closest To Him

Robin Askew moves on, but her father remains there for her.

The constant, the heart and soul of BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Bob Loveless, was wrapped up in custom knives. There was little time for anything else and there were only rare occasions that he travelled. Bob and his wife, Yoshi, made a few trips to Japan or to Hawaii, on a rare occasion to Europe, but most often with some business purpose involved as well.

And over time, Robin Askew came to appreciate and understand the singular purpose, laser-like focus and personal intensity that drove her father. He was capable of kindness but often brutally frank. He was willing to entertain young knifemakers, share information and then criticize or dismiss flaws with stark, unvarnished perspective. With patience that was sometimes fleeting, he did not suffer fools gladly.

But then, his personality was a tapestry, like all of us, an amalgam of inherited traits and life experience. His mother and father had sent him to live on a farm with grandparents at a young age. According to Robin, he lived and worked with the hired hands, not as a grandchild. At just 15 years old, he joined the Merchant Marine when his mother told the white lie that he was of age.

In addition to the knife her dad made for her, Robin’s other favorite keepsake is a photo of him, a joyous grin radiating from his face, as a cluster of pigeons lands on his shoulders and arms during a visit to Rome many years ago. “It’s a beautiful picture,” Robin stated, “and I look at it every day.”
In addition to the knife her dad made for her, Robin’s other favorite keepsake is a photo of him, a joyous grin radiating from his face, as a cluster of pigeons lands on his shoulders and arms during a visit to Rome many years ago. “It’s a beautiful picture,” Robin stated, “and I look at it every day.”

It wasn’t easy for Bob Loveless, right from the start. But he made something of his opportunities and his native talents, shared them in the way he knew how, paying the price along the way and leaving a body of work of insight into what is beauty and flow in a handmade knife, like no one else has. For the record, he never billed himself as the world’s best knifemaker. He wasn’t, and he freely acknowledged that others were much more deserving of applause for their skills. It was his eye, perspective and sense of beauty and design that thoroughly set him apart.

Four Careers

When Robin grew up, moved out and moved on, she carried the best and the most worrisome of life experiences with her. She made her own way and has come to understand and appreciate the journey.

“I’ve really had four careers,” she reflected. “I worked 11 years in the banking industry and 20 years as a correctional peace officer at Pelican Bay State Prison in Crescent City, California, with 12 years as a peace officer. Put that together with the work in Dad’s office and then when my husband, Jimmie Askew, and I had a restaurant in Crescent City, California.”
When she worked in banking, Robin went to Crescent City on business for her employer. While there she met the most eligible bachelor in town. “It was a 400-mile, eight-hour drive to Crescent City, and I was supposed to be there for a month,” she said. “It became one of those wonderful love stories. Jimmie and I were meant to be together.”

Bob Loveless photographed Robin’s son Nico during a regular visit while they were “out and about.” Nico was 9. The resemblance to his grandfather is striking. (Bob Loveless image)
Bob Loveless photographed Robin’s son Nico during a regular visit while they were “out and about.” Nico was 9. The resemblance to his grandfather is striking. (Bob Loveless image)

Jimmie was an award-winning chef, and with Robin’s business background the couple put together a fine restaurant that served a variety of entrees.

“I met Jimmie in 1984,” she recalled wistfully. “We got married the next year, and he passed away 12 years later. He made prime rib, barbecue pork spareribs and fresh seafood. He would go out in the morning on his boat and catch 300 to 400 pounds of rock cod. He would clean the fish and then serve it that night. It was the best seafood in all of Crescent City—wonderful. We also had meat from our mesquite grill, chicken parmesan, grilled Italian sausage, vegetarian dishes and the deep-fried seafood platter.”

Nico

The couple had one son, Nico, who is now 36. When Robin speaks of those days, a tinge of heartache touches her words. But also during that time, she rediscovered the love and care that her father had always had for the family.

Nico and Robin
Nico and Robin

“Dad came up from Riverside to visit us a month before Jimmie died,” Robin recalled. He had been in touch by telephone continually and made himself the father figure that a 7-year-old boy needed during a tragic time.

“After Jimmie died, Dad would come up regularly,” Robin related. “He took Nico fishing four or five times a year. Grandpa was there for Nico. He taught him how to shoot a gun and would charter a boat on the Chetco River in Oregon and they would fish together. He came up to see Nico play soccer, baseball and football, and he stepped in to take care of my son.”

When Bob wasn’t physically present, he was always in touch with Robin and Nico. He worried that Robin worked in the toughest place at Pelican Bay State Prison. It was called the “shoe,” and he once told Robin how he worried for her safety. Her response was from deep inside, a manifestation of something she learned when her father made the introduction to that Japanese gentleman years earlier: “I told my dad, ‘I show them [the inmates] respect, and they show me respect. It’s really the safest place in the prison to work.’ I told him there were two officers for every inmate and that I really had no qualms about it.”

Bob took this picture when he visited Robin and Nico not long after Jimmie Askew passed away. Nico was 10.
Bob took this picture when he visited Robin and Nico not long after Jimmie Askew passed away. Nico was 10.

That soft spot in Bob’s heart came through time and again as he cared for his daughter and grandson. “He would call us and say, ‘What’s Nico doing?’ He wrote a check to pay for Nico’s braces. He was there for both of us. Being a widow raising a young boy, I could call him anytime and we would talk. I also started to do that with my mother because I wanted to reach out and make sure that my contact with my family was really strong. Dad was so far away, but I talked to him at least once a week. He became the type of dad that my son needed.”

Traits & Quirks

All the while, the legend of Bob Loveless continued to grow. Tales were told. Knives were made and sold. Stories were swapped, and the maker slowly but surely grasped his own impact on the world of knives. At the same time, his various interests, personality traits and, yes, his quirks made him more than just a knifemaking phenomenon. They made him a marvel, a celebrity and an icon.

Bob always carried a gun. “Even when I was a little girl,” Robin laughed, “I remember that he would hang his gun on the towel rack in the bathroom.” For some time, he enjoyed rabbit hunting in the desert with friends. But then another fork in the road pointed a different direction when it came to outdoor activities.

It was his eye, perspective and sense of beauty and design that set Bob Loveless apart. Few if any of his knives capture these traits better than his Big Bear fighter in sheep horn and gold engraving by Dan Wilkerson. (from the John Denton collection; Eric Eggly/PointSeven image)
It was his eye, perspective and sense of beauty and design that set Bob Loveless apart. Few if any of his knives capture these traits better than his Big Bear fighter in sheep horn and gold engraving by Dan Wilkerson. (from the John Denton collection; Eric Eggly/PointSeven image)

Robin commented, “They took a lot of hunting trips, and one day Dad decided to stop shooting animals with a gun. He started shooting pictures with a camera. He loved photography, and I have no idea how all that started—but, gosh, I remember when I was a young kid he would take me and Allison on the weekends to camera stores. He would go in and talk for a couple of hours, and we were bored out of our minds. He would take pictures like you wouldn’t believe.”

Adding to Bob’s repertoire of activities, he was also an accomplished gunsmith. If these endeavors sound like a lot to pack into a lifetime, then there is no hesitation in labeling Loveless a true “Renaissance Man.”

Nonetheless, he had pursued his passions, probably without seeking the fame that came along with them. “I do know he never liked living in fancy houses,” Robin remarked. “But he had sports cars, and his favorite car depended on his age bracket. He would drive the back roads to the Chinese restaurant in Riverside and hit 100 miles per hour. At one time, he had three cars and two airplanes. He was a pilot with a lot of camera equipment. He probably got his pilot’s license before he moved to Riverside. I forget what year he got rid of his planes. He had crashed and it was no fault of his own. It happened when a bigger plane was landing and he got banged up. He had a limp after that.”

Keepsakes

Writes Robin: “My handsome son Nico as he is today, shaggy beard and all. As a mother, I think his eyes and smile show what a kind and good man he is. I know his grandpa would agree with me and like this picture very much.”
Writes Robin: “My handsome son Nico as he is today, shaggy beard and all. As a mother, I think his eyes and smile show what a kind and good man he is. I know his grandpa would agree with me and like this picture very much.”

Today, Robin’s heart is warmed by her memories, her strong Christian faith, and the knowledge that her dad truly became a father. His life was a mosaic of love and loss, turmoil and moments of calm, fiery and icy emotion, but always with a heart for the good and for his family. She clings to at least a couple of special items that symbolize the tie that binds.

He made a banana skinner for her when she graduated from high school. “It has a stag handle with intricate engraving that he had done by a silversmith,” Robin said, “and I think the handle is at least 6 inches long with the blade about 7 inches. It is absolutely beautiful.”

A few years ago, Steve Johnson cleaned the knife up and put an edge on it. Dave Ellis took photographs of the one-of-a-kind piece, and John Denton, likely the foremost authority on Loveless knives in the world today, offered powerful words and urged her to treasure it always.

His various interests, personality traits and quirks made Bob Loveless more than just a knifemaking phenomenon—they made him a marvel, a celebrity and an icon.
His various interests, personality traits and quirks made Bob Loveless more than just a knifemaking phenomenon—they made him a marvel, a celebrity and an icon.

The other keepsake is a photo of Bob, a joyous grin radiating from his face, as a cluster of pigeons lands on his shoulders and arms during a visit to Rome many years ago. It captures a sliver of his enjoyment of life, a glimpse into the heart and soul of just who he was. He was the gruff guy that gave generously to the local animal shelter, the edgy and matter-of-fact curmudgeon who handed substantial financial support to the UPS driver who had served faithfully in the area for years when Bob found out the guy had fallen on hard times. He was simply their quiet benefactor.

“It’s a beautiful picture and I look at it every day,” Robin offered. She ponders exactly where his genius came from and concludes that he inherited it from his mother. She admits that the spark of “genius” has not emerged from any other family member and concludes, “It was meant to be. That kind of genius is created before birth. My father was extremely gifted, and I always knew that.”

True enough, he was gifted, and in some ways that only a relative few others were even aware of.

Growing up Loveless and living within the sphere of influence her famous father created has been an adventure for Robin Askew, a thrill ride that began so many years ago, one that continues well after her dad’s departure from this Earth.

Read More On Bob Loveless:

Growing Up Loveless: Reflections On The Master From His Daughter

Robin Askew reflects on being the daughter of Bob Loveless.

It was intimate and distant. It was warm and aloof. It was youth, adulthood, hope and memory—all at the same time.

Robin Askew is 70 years old now. She lives a quiet life in Sacramento, California, and her recollections of growing up as the daughter of a legend offer insights into years of experiences that few could imagine. Her father, BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Bob Loveless, was and remains one of the titans of the custom knife industry. He has been gone more than 15 years, but his imprint on the past, present and future of custom knives is unmistakable and not about to wane.

Bob Loveless (center) talks with David Crosby (right) of Crosby, Stills and Nash at the 1989 California Custom Knife Show. The two were good friends, with Loveless an inveterate harmonica player who at times would play with CSN at a local bar or night club. At left is a young, mustachioed Steve D’Lack, coordinator today of the New York and Nashville Custom Knife Shows. (John Denton image)
Bob Loveless (center) talks with David Crosby (right) of Crosby, Stills and Nash at the 1989 California Custom Knife Show. The two were good friends, with Loveless an inveterate harmonica player who at times would play with CSN at a local bar or night club. At left is a young, mustachioed Steve D’Lack, coordinator today of the New York and Nashville Custom Knife Shows. (John Denton image)

Likewise, those who knew him remember his unforgettable, often larger-than-life persona. Creative genius, irascibility, generosity and unique perspective came together in Loveless, the man who shaped custom knives and literally changed the landscape in tangible ways, including steel and its components, and in intangible ways such as the sweep of the blade, its flow and form, and the aesthetic qualities that characterized his legacy.

Robin experienced the evolution, both in the life of Loveless and in the industry that he forever altered. From her earliest memories, her father was a busy man building a future one knife at a time, crafting a legend—whether he knew it or not—one innovation after another from a basement in Delaware to his shops in California. In the midst of it all, growing up Loveless was a complex, frustrating, fallible, forgiving and ultimately joyous journey.

David Crosby owned this ivory-handled Loveless utility knife fully engraved by H.H. Frank. According to John Denton, it sold for $22,000 a few years ago. (Cory Martin image)
David Crosby owned this ivory-handled Loveless utility knife fully engraved by H.H. Frank. According to John Denton, it sold for $22,000 a few years ago. (Cory Martin image)

“Some people were actually frightened of him,” Robin smiled. “They might have been put off. But his bark was so much worse than his bite. Over the years, my father was so amazed by the fact that others regarded him with such a high standard. He didn’t embrace that at all. One time he said to me, ‘They still think I’m the greatest.’ That was something that he had never imagined and never really came to terms with.”

Bob Loveless made contributions to the knife industry on multiple levels. He was instrumental in the formation of The Knifemakers’ Guild and in establishing the custom knife market in concert with other great men like the incomparable Cutlery Hall-of-Famer A.G. Russell. Loveless reached across the globe and developed relationships in Japan that eventually brought ATS-34 stainless steel, a staple in blade construction, to other markets. He was a metallurgist who concocted his own steel composition and made Micarta® a handle material of choice. The curve and the sweep of the drop-point hunter and other Loveless creations touch the senses and influence generations of admirers even now.

Robin Askew is alive and living well today at 70.
Robin Askew is alive and living well today at 70.

For Robin, more than half a century of a legend in the making is remembered in light and shadow, the image of her father at work tirelessly building and brainstorming and striving to make his way, and in turn taking care of those close to him. It was, at times, both turbulent and tender, but always something new.

“Daddy was super, super busy,” Robin recalled. “I never made a knife, just swept the shop floor. He would do things in batches and stages, and one of the most fascinating things I remember was when he would cut the leather and make the sheaths on a big stitching machine. He did everything with the knives, from drawing out the patterns to grinding the blades down and shaping them and putting the Micarta, stag or ivory handles on them. After he ground batches of blades, he would test them, pointing them down and dropping them onto the concrete floor of the shop. If the tip cracked, the whole batch of blades would be thrown away—but that never happened.”

Through the years, there were times when the family fractured, quite probably due at least in part to the stress and strain of a one-man enterprise that was on the rise, moving through uncharted territory and challenges. While something incredible was eventually gained, there was a cost to be counted. But such is true in life, true for everyone and in every relationship.

Lawndale & Riverside

For much of her young life in Lawndale, California, Robin lived in a small house with her mother and sister while her father lived in a studio apartment just down the road and worked in his basic shop.

“At the time I grew up with my dad, Allison and I were the oldest, and then Mary came along nine years later,” Robin commented. “Dad was getting to be known while the shop was in Lawndale, and when I was a senior in high school in 1973, the shop in Riverside, California, was not quite ready.

Taken on Christmas 1982, Loveless’s three daughters appear together, in back from left, Robin, Alison and Mary. Bob has his arm around Alison’s daughter Anna, the first Loveless grandchild.
Taken on Christmas 1982, Loveless’s three daughters appear together, in back from left, Robin, Alison and Mary. Bob has his arm around Alison’s daughter Anna, the first Loveless grandchild.

“Still, he was getting telephone calls all the time. We would answer them in the house when he was working, and finally he put a phone in the shop because we had been taking all the calls,” she laughed. “He hired me to be his little secretary, and I would send out the catalogs and address them and seal them and take messages. It was a little weekend job, nice and fun.”

The relocation to Riverside occurred about 1974, and Robin remembers the dramatic change from Lawndale in terms of shop sophistication. “I had moved away,” she said, “and when I came to the shop in Riverside, it was so much more advanced than the little Lawndale shop with so many machines and things to look at. I was fascinated by everything he did, and it was fun to sit in his office.”

Along For The Ride

“Some people were actually frightened of him,” Robin said of her father. “They might have been put off. But his bark was so much worse than his bite.”
“Some people were actually frightened of him,” Robin said of her father. “They might have been put off. But his bark was so much worse than his bite.”

By that time, though, the Loveless mystique was already established. Bob was well on his way to custom knife stardom. And those around him? Well, they were along for the ride.

“People had started to come over and meet my dad,” Robin smiled. “There were so many people, different people, ordering knives. He would hang up the phone and say, ‘OK, John Wayne just ordered a knife.’”

Bob Loveless became a friend to the prominent, the eclectic and a diverse spectrum of admirers. Although they may have shared little else, they were each drawn, like moths to a flame, to the world and work of a master. Loveless met David Crosby, Stephen Stills and Graham Nash, stars of the pop music scene with their fame growing exponentially in the late 1960s. Crosby was a frequent visitor.

“When Dad first met them, the three were playing the circuit,” Robin remarked. “They were performing in bars and night clubs, and Dad would sit in with them on stage and play his harmonica. He loved to play the harmonica and had a lot of fun with them. Crosby would come to where Dad lived in the studio apartment about a quarter mile down the street from the house in Lawndale and just hang out. One time, he came to the door and said, ‘Is your dad here?’ and I yelled, ‘Dad, David Crosby is at the front door!’ They would just talk and enjoy themselves and do their thing.

“One time Crosby came into the kitchen and said, ‘Robin, can you make me a cup of coffee? You’re the only one who knows how I like it.’ This is 1973. These guys are really hot. And I’m a senior in high school!”

Vietnam

Robin visited her dad after he set up shop in Riverside, California, where this shot was taken in the backyard. She was 18.
Robin visited her dad after he set up shop in Riverside, California, where this shot was taken in the backyard. She was 18.

During the 1960s and ’70s, Bob made many knives for military personnel, but Robin says he was sensitive to the situation when it came to his children. “My war was Vietnam,” she reflected, “and Dad made a lot of combat knives for Marines and Special Operations people who went overseas. I never knew that until I was an adult, and I don’t think Dad wanted us to know that. The war was so horrific in my eyes, but I supported everyone who ever went there. Some of them were my schoolmates.

“Dad was not a part of the California culture of that time,” she continued, “because he was always making knives. He had a lot of them on back order, and he would tell me the wait time was five years or six years, and later it got up to 10 years. He didn’t ever really have time to leave the shop, and he never discussed political things unless I called and asked his opinion about something. I do know that he made fighting knives—and these were like ‘killer knives.’ They were unbelievable. Then, his mother and stepfather were murdered in Ohio in 1985. They were stabbed to death in a robbery while he was in Japan.

According to John Denton, Loveless made this fighter in tulip wood with skull-cracker in Lawndale, California, for CIA operative Harry Archer. (Hiro Soga image)
According to John Denton, Loveless made this fighter in tulip wood with skull-cracker in Lawndale, California, for CIA operative Harry Archer. (Hiro Soga image)

“The decision was made not to tell him about it until he came home. He had already had a heart attack. So, after he was given the terrible news, I believe he felt bad about making knives because sometimes knives took people’s lives. Afterward, he no longer made combat knives.”

The life and times of Bob Loveless were surreal, energized and unequalled in excitement. “I remember once when a gentleman from Japan visited us in California,” Robin added. “My dad was instrumental in helping the Japanese Guild get started, and they would send makers over to work with him. I had no idea who this gentleman was, and you’ve got to remember that the Lawndale shop was just a tiny square box, not fancy but where he had put everything he had into it. This Japanese gentleman bowed to me. I was 16 at the time—and honored that he would bow to me. I didn’t really understand, but Dad said, ‘That’s what they do. They respect us, and they copy us because they respect our work.’”

Bob’s Beehive

Bob also cultivated a relationship with his one-time landlord, Dr. Dixon. He rented a house from Dixon and subsequently bought it. He made knives that Dixon collected, even naming a fighter style after his friend, this one with the Loveless signature logo. (John Denton image)
Bob also cultivated a relationship with his one-time landlord, Dr. Dixon. He rented a house from Dixon and subsequently bought it. He made knives that Dixon collected, even naming a fighter style after his friend, this one with the Loveless signature logo. (John Denton image)

The Loveless shop, in Lawndale and then Riverside, was a beehive of activity. First, Bob was a solo act, and then great partnerships and friendships emerged. “In the morning, I would go to school, and he was busy all day,” Robin said. “Steve Johnson came in and was his partner. Steve was like an older brother to me. He was a very good boy, very shy and dedicated to learning the craft from my dad. He is maybe five years older than I am, and he grew into a wonderful man.

“Steve had a Camaro, and he would let me drive it,” she continued. “It had a manual shift, not an automatic. I went for the test to get my driver’s license in that car, and it didn’t go too well. The instructor said, ‘Are you all right? You turned too much!’ When we got back to the DMV, I told Steve I had flunked. But he still let me drive his car back home.”

The most famous Loveless knife of all, the drop-point hunter or, as he called it, the dropped hunter.(Dave Ellis/Exquisiteknives.com image)
The most famous Loveless knife of all, the drop-point hunter or, as he called it, the dropped hunter.(Dave Ellis/Exquisiteknives.com image)

Bob also cultivated a relationship with his one-time landlord, Dr. Dixon. He rented a house from Dixon and subsequently bought it. He made knives that Dixon collected, even naming a fighter style after his friend. Bob’s buddy Ray Randall was a frequent visitor as well. Robin recalled, “Ray was a sales representative, and he would bring us girls all kinds of shampoos and cream rinses for our hair when he came out to visit Dad.”

Read More On Bob Loveless:

Japanese Swords: Can Tradition Outperform Modern Tech?

There is plenty of lore surrounding traditional Japanese Swords, but do the master makers’ time-tested methods equal modern steel advancements?

Editor’s note: Long-time BLADE® subscriber and knife collector Rick Royster wrote us, wondering how the swords of the ancient Japanese samurai warriors would compare to today’s modern swords. Did all the steps the ancient Asian swordsmiths used really make a difference? “Employing special quenchants, some clay, some of this and that—is it science or mystical?” Rick asked. While we couldn’t test an ancient sword vs. one of today’s, we did go to the sources themselves for answers—some of today’s top swordsmiths.

The traditional Japanese sword blade is revered for its performance, perhaps even more than its beauty and ties to an uber-rich heritage in the world of cutlery. Combined, these elements make the classic Japanese sword something unforgettable, a work of art and poetry in motion—yet capable of delivering the decisive blow in combat.

Modern custom sword blades may not possess the allure of the centuries. They may not have a hamon—though many do—or the other attributes that make their vintage counterparts so revered. Nonetheless, they can claim respect and admiration when it comes to strength. If the comparison of relative strength is relevant and worthwhile, which is stronger—the ancient Japanese or the modern custom sword blade?

World-renowned Japanese swordsmith Yoshindo Yoshihara does yakire, the fast quenching of a sword, during one of his swordmaking demonstrations. (Aram Compeau image)
World-renowned Japanese swordsmith Yoshindo Yoshihara does yakire, the fast quenching of a sword, during one of his swordmaking demonstrations. (Aram Compeau image)

BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member/ABS master smith Steve Schwarzer answers the question this way: “Modern steels are highly superior in almost every way except for visual structure. Traditional Japanese bladesmiths were all about taking inferior material, which was the best stuff on the planet at the time, and making it better. Modern steel is superior because it is a lot cleaner with alloys for specific jobs. Setting the structure up is what today’s American Bladesmith Society is all about: making steel better. It’s hard to compare the two, but modern steels are superior in edge holding and sharpness. Modern steel won’t bend like the old stuff because it is not designed to bend.

“Once you get the aesthetics out, the fancy hamons and stuff like that, ancient bladesmiths had a way to control the process in the old days from one portion of the blade to another. If you take a Japanese blade and quench and polish it, you have a big spring supporting the cutting edge, and that is why it would excel in battle.”

ABS master smith Zack Jonas sees the purpose as the primary differentiator in either case.

According to Steve Schwarzer, traditional Japanese bladesmiths took inferior material—the best stuff available at the time—and made it better. “Modern steel is superior because it is a lot cleaner with alloys for specific jobs,” he stated. He used modern steel and all the trimmings on his Japanese sword. (Eric Eggly/PointSeven sword image; image of Schwarzer by Chris Wellhausen)
According to Steve Schwarzer, traditional Japanese bladesmiths took inferior material—the best stuff available at the time—and made it better. “Modern steel is superior because it is a lot cleaner with alloys for specific jobs,” he stated. He used modern steel and all the trimmings on his Japanese sword. (Eric Eggly/PointSeven sword image; image of Schwarzer by Chris Wellhausen)

“The strength of the traditional Japanese sword would have been measured in its ability to withstand the test of battle without breaking,” he began. “By this measure, they were marvels of engineering. Today’s technology is capable of producing swords with performance characteristics that vastly exceed the finest traditional blades. We have steel mills producing bespoke blade alloys from ultra-precise ratios of refined base elements.

“We have modern heat-treating methods capable of holding plus-or-minus a fraction of a degree indefinitely within a perfectly controlled atmosphere. We have modern quenching oils and molten salt pots and ovens for tempering, and we have analytical tools that allow us to refine how we approach our materials. Traditional swords were purpose-built for war, and they lived up to those demands for a thousand years and more. But modern science gives us greater capabilities on a purely quantitative level.”

The cutting of the tatami mat—done here by James Williams during one of his Japanese sword demos at a past BLADE Show—is said to be a good analogue for testing cuts against a human target.
The cutting of the tatami mat—done here by James Williams during one of his Japanese sword demos at a past BLADE Show—is said to be a good analogue for testing cuts against a human target.

Schwarzer agrees that modern steel is produced in quantity, while the traditional Japanese sword blade was produced singularly.

“It truly takes a master to get the most out of any steel,” he remarked, “but modern steels are more forgiving because they are designed around production, not one-offs.”

Traditional Sword Construction

Dave Goldberg has made traditional Japanese swords since the 1990s and learned from masters in their construction, as well as in the forging of damascus. He sees the functionality of the traditional Japanese blade and says, “The edge of the sword blade is about 60-70 on the Rockwell scale and you want that to be about one-third of the blade area. The middle is somewhat hard, and the back is not hard but flexible.”

According to Zack Jonas, modern smiths have access to modern materials and technology, but in many or even most cases, modern swords are not made with careful consideration for the practicalities of combat. Zack’s wakizashi features a 22-inch damascus blade with a shinogi zukuri grind. Overall length: 28 inches. (SharpByCoop sword image; image of Zack by B. R. Hughes)
According to Zack Jonas, modern smiths have access to modern materials and technology, but in many or even most cases, modern swords are not made with careful consideration for the practicalities of combat. Zack’s wakizashi features a 22-inch damascus blade with a shinogi zukuri grind. Overall length: 28 inches. (SharpByCoop sword image; image of Zack by B. R. Hughes)

According to Jonas, the hardening process was essential during ancient times. The warrior absolutely depended on it. Traditional swordsmithing techniques have been refined over the course of centuries through the familiar process of trial and error.

“Since ‘error’ would have been a matter of life and death,” Zack observed, “we can say with a degree of confidence that traditional methods worked extremely well. For example, it was essential to employ differential hardening—which traditional smiths did by applying an insulative clay to the spine—because given the properties of the steel they were working with, a fully hardened blade would have created a number of problems both for the smith and for the warrior. It can be tricky to retrospectively disentangle the mystical from the scientific. Mystical practices that offered no benefit would have been winnowed out in favor of those that did, and those that did offer benefit can be scientifically explained today.”

Years ago, Goldberg traveled to Japan to study traditional sword blades under the legendary Yoshindo Yoshihara, whose family has practiced the art for no fewer than 10 generations.

Zack Jonas said modern steels can get harder, tougher and sharper than traditional Japanese tamagahane steel, but it remains important to remember that tamagahane was strong enough for a thousand years of battles. This traditional tamahagane was made in a smelter, or tatara. (Yoshihara Yoshikazu image)
Zack Jonas said modern steels can get harder, tougher and sharper than traditional Japanese tamagahane steel, but it remains important to remember that tamagahane was strong enough for a thousand years of battles. This traditional tamahagane was made in a smelter, or tatara. (Yoshihara Yoshikazu image)

“He taught me a lot of things about sword making,” Dave remembered, “and in his smithy, he had on the wall behind where he forges a Japanese shrine with lightning bolts hanging and incense burners, and there was a little teapot in the smithy, too. He said it was just decoration, but with the Japanese guys even if you are friends, there are still secrets. So, I put paper lightning bolts in my shop too—to protect my spirit and so the blades will come out well and get through the quench.”

Bound up in tradition, the mysticism makes the Japanese way an art form that can never be completely separated from its origins. Even in a straight-up test of strength, whether one steel prevailed over the other, there would be no loser. Each would continue to hold its relative place in time and space and fact and imagination.

“In absolute quantitative terms, traditional materials mostly do not offer performance advantages over their modern counterparts,” Jonas said, echoing Schwarzer’s observation. “For example, modern steels can get harder, tougher and sharper than traditional Japanese tamagahane steel, but it is still important to remember that tamagahane was strong enough for a thousand years of battles. Likewise, performance isn’t everything. One of the signature features of tamahagane is its appearance. It has aesthetic characteristics that modern steels lack entirely.”

Japanese Sword Features

Eighty-two-year-old Yoshindo Yoshihara, author of this classic Japanese sword and saya (scabbard), is generally recognized as the greatest maker of Japanese-style swords of his generation. (Francesco Pachi images)
Eighty-two-year-old Yoshindo Yoshihara, author of this classic Japanese sword and saya (scabbard), is generally recognized as the greatest maker of Japanese-style swords of his generation. (Francesco Pachi images)

Among the most noteworthy features found in traditional Japanese sword blades is the hamon, which Zack describes as the literal demarcation point between the hardened edge of the blade and its softer spine. The hamon, he says, is a visible representation of the technique that must be used due to the material constraints and demands of tamahagane steel.

It is visible due to light diffusing off the mixture of hard and non-hardened crystalline structures, where the hardened edge transitions to the softer spine. He adds that over time, the production of the hamon stretched beyond the practical necessities of the steel and into the realm of aesthetics. Whether the shape of the hamon has any bearing on the blade’s performance is an open question.

“Any steel hardened and tempered to its best molecular composition is good steel,” Goldberg commented. “Modern 80CrV2 steel is harder than any Japanese steel. Japanese steel can take it in battle, and from sword to sword, it can be amazingly hard. It becomes its own shield when the warrior holds it above his head and can then come around and cut the other guy. Japanese steel is really hard, but modern technology is something else. I have never seen anything harder than the CrV stuff. Everything is purpose-driven.”

Matt Venier made what he calls Mattyhagane to recreate tamahagane for the blade of his katana. The tsuka (handle) consists of a wood core with full rayskin and braided wrap. The tsuba (guard) and habaki (collar) are copper. (SharpByCoop images)
Matt Venier made what he calls Mattyhagane to recreate tamahagane for the blade of his katana. The tsuka (handle) consists of a wood core with full rayskin and braided wrap. The tsuba (guard) and habaki (collar) are copper. (SharpByCoop images)

Other attributes of the traditional Japanese sword, including the handle ornaments known as menuki, may contribute to performance as well. While some observers may see menuki as a sort of grip enhancement in functioning as a palm swell, allowing the user to index the sword better, others stress that they are primarily evidence of the maker’s desire to express his or her own identity and creativity. Menuki quite possibly can function on both levels.

Japanese Sword Folklore

Through the centuries, there have been claims that Japanese steel can perform certain tasks that modern sword steel cannot. Jonas says that many such contentions are simply folklore or myth and have been easily debunked.

“One popular example is the cutting of the tatami mat,” he related. “These straw mats, soaked in water and then rolled tightly together, are said to be a good analogue for testing cuts against a human target. It has been said that only the katana can do this well, but these days, videos can be found online showing a skilled swordsman cutting through a tatami with a blunted medieval-style longsword.

“The Japanese sword has been mythologized along with the warriors who made it famous. The samurai were incredible fighters who earned their reputation for fierce courage through feats in battle and cultural refinement. Their signature sword is a highly developed object with exceptional performance abilities, but traditional examples will not outperform their modern counterparts.”

Old & New Symbiosis

In the final analysis, the old and new steels co-exist, achieving a symbiosis, a sort of mutual respect. As Zack so aptly pointed out, the context of their comparison weighs in on the discourse.

“It is important to consider how this matter is discussed,” he noted. “Most of these topics bear on the question of superiority—what makes this sword better than that sword or vice versa—and while it is possible to give some answers in the absolute sense, there is a risk that these answers ignore important contextual factors.

“The traditional Japanese sword was designed for a particular form of combat and was designed with the constraints of the tools and materials available at the time,” he concluded. “Modern smiths have access to modern materials and technology, but in many or even most cases, modern swords are not made with careful consideration for the practicalities of combat. Modern smiths are unlikely to even be familiar with how a sword would need to behave in a fight.”

Times change, materials change, techniques and methods change. But through the ages, traditional icons endure, while new and emerging genres come to life and begin to build legacies of their own.

More On Swords:

Utility Of The Knife Hole: Poking Into This Modern Design

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From tactical rings to signature openers: analyzing the practical advantages of negative space in blade engineering.

The hole in the handle or blade, or anywhere in knife construction, has something to tell the user. But what is it trying to say or do?

It is eye-catching but the hole and/or ring and the science that goes along with it complement the visual and the practical in knife use. Aesthetics, mechanics and utility are factors. After all, the essence of the knife is in its use as a tool, and who wouldn’t mind a prettier profile at the same time?

Original Hole

The story of the hole in the blade cannot be told without including Spyderco and its legendary leader, BLADE Magazine Cutlery Hall-of-Fame® member Sal Glesser. In the decades since Spyderco introduced its iconic hole in the blade, the company has produced countless folders that characterize the ease of opening inherent in the hole itself.

The story of the hole in the blade cannot be told without Spyderco and its legendary leader, Sal Glesser. The BLADE Magazine 1990 Overall Knife of the Year®, the blade-hole-opening Endura is one of the company’s longest-running models.
The story of the hole in the blade cannot be told without Spyderco and its legendary leader, Sal Glesser. The BLADE Magazine 1990 Overall Knife of the Year®, the blade-hole-opening Endura is one of the company’s longest-running models.

Sal said he well remembers the inspiration to step out with his company’s blades.

“The Buck 110 and Gerber Folding Hunter were the watershed change to locking knives, in my opinion,” he recalled. “I purchased a Buck 110 when they first came out. As a young man I learned to open the Buck and Gerber lockers with one hand using my thumb, pushing on the side of the blade. I was working late in the shop one night, payables, payroll, etc., and I thought to try to figure out a way to modify a folding knife so that anyone could learn to open [it] with one hand more easily and more safely than the way I was doing it.”

From that single thought, Glesser went to work. He experimented with adding to the blade for leverage—studs, discs, hoods and other things—but found they got in the way when cutting or sharpening and could “wave” the knife open unintentionally when deploying.

“So I started taking things away from the blade to create purchase for the thumb,” Sal continued. “I first roughed up the side of the blade, which worked, but not very well. Then I drilled a dent into the blade. A dent on both sides became a hole.”

Eureka!

Sal plowed ahead, making a rough prototype using a Japanese folder and welding a piece of drilling rod to the spine of the blade to add height. He ground it down to the thickness of the blade and then drilled the hole to test his ease-of-opening theory.

“We applied for a patent claiming a ‘ledge’ created by the edge of the hole that could be used by the fleshy part of the thumb to urge the blade open with one hand,” Sal recalled. “I chose to use a round hole because it was easier to make and was easily identifiable.”

The rest, as they say, is history.

From the first blade-hole model in 1981, the Spyderco Worker, the distance from the center of the pivot to the hole was analyzed while the optimal size of the hole for the average thumb was measured. Enhanced trademark work was successful in securing the round shape since copies were notable with different shapes to get around the word “hole” in the original Spyderco patent language. Hence, the company introduced the hole into its fixed blades as an identifier “large enough to be cleaned and small enough to be noticed.”

Perfecting the hole for its primary purpose of easy opening meant leaving a certain amount of steel above the hole to compensate for the space. “Some steels that are more brittle could be broken through the hole if pried with hard enough,” Sal concluded. “But the truth be told, there are millions of Spyderco knives in the marketplace over the past almost 50 years and there have been very few that were broken.”

Where & Why Of Holes

Toor Knives CEO Connor Toor says the hole/ring of the Cortano is between the handle and blade for several reasons, including deployment and retention, a tactile index for consistent hand placement, a lanyard attachment point, and an unmistakable visual signature. Another is the ability to choke up for precise cuts without losing control.
Toor Knives CEO Connor Toor says the hole/ring of the Cortano is between the handle and blade for several reasons, including deployment and retention, a tactile index for consistent hand placement, a lanyard attachment point, and an unmistakable visual signature. Another is the ability to choke up for precise cuts without losing control.

In overall perspective, the hole has its place in the fixed blade as well. The Toor Corporation Cortano sports the hole/ring for a simple reason according to CEO Connor Toor.

“A hole allows fast, ambidextrous one-handed deployment without extra hardware,” he explained, “and it keeps the blade profile clean and snag resistant. It also slightly reduces weight and manufacturing complexity compared with an added stud or thumb disc.”

The hole in the Cortano is located between handle and blade for several reasons, including deployment and retention, a tactile index for consistent hand placement, a lanyard attachment point, and an unmistakable visual signature that differentiates the knife. An added bonus, says Connor, is the ability of the user to choke up for precise cuts without losing positive control.

“We typically call it an ‘index/retention ring’ or simply the ‘deployment hole,’” Toor commented. “The concept is rooted in historic ring knife forms and modern karambit/utility designs more broadly, so while makers like Steve Likarich are part of that lineage, our design pulls from both traditional ring knives and contemporary tactical needs rather than a single source.

“Any aperture introduces stress concentration,” Connor continued, “but proper blade geometry, material selection and heat treatment mitigate that risk. We designed the Cortano so overall material thickness preserves strength around the hole. Real world testing and appropriate use show no practical durability issues when those engineering details are respected.”

Holes For Balance

The Formido fixed blade from Spartan Blades comes with a series of grip holes, that, explains company president Curtis Iovito (inset), “primarily tune balance by reducing handle weight.”
The Formido fixed blade from Spartan Blades comes with a series of grip holes, that, explains company president Curtis Iovito (inset), “primarily tune balance by reducing handle weight.”

The Formido fixed blade from Spartan Blades comes with a series of holes in the handle, and company president Curtis Iovito readily points to the advantages of the design.

“It’s primarily to tune balance by reducing handle weight,” he advised, “often to place the balance over the index finger. We’ll enlarge or shrink hidden holes under the scales to shift weight where it best serves the knife’s purpose. Looks can be a secondary benefit. Along with weight reduction, there are options for lashing or paracord wraps, and added indexing/traction without introducing weak corners. In some cases, they also enable spear mounting or other field attachments.”

Curtis adds that the parameters for the introduction of holes in the blade or body of the knife vary as to the designer’s objectives.

“There is no universal formula,” he related. Holes, however, must measure up to certain standards to “maintain strong ‘webs’ of material around fasteners and stress points, and scales must be clamped well to prevent lifting and contamination. Round holes are favored because they machine easily and avoid sharp internal corners that become stress risers during heat treat. Arched/rounded cutouts can add torsional strength as seen on our Enyo and Formido.”

Holes In Karambit

Designed by Joshua Swanagon, the TOPS Knives C.U.T. 4.0 is a hybrid karambit that combines the practicality of a utility knife with the defensive and combat features of a standard karambit. Its ringed handle is common to the pattern’s lineage while the utility drop-point blade is more of a traditional design element.
Designed by Joshua Swanagon, the TOPS Knives C.U.T. 4.0 is a hybrid karambit that combines the practicality of a utility knife with the defensive and combat features of a standard karambit. Its ringed handle is common to the pattern’s lineage while the utility drop-point blade is more of a traditional design element.

At TOPS Knives, the C.U.T. 4.0 is a hybrid karambit that combines the practicality of the utility knife with the defensive and combat features of the karambit. Its ringed handle is common to the karambit lineage while the utility drop-point blade is more of a traditional design element. The karambit hole itself is probably a derivative of agricultural use.

“It does seem to be the case that many karambits used in Asia were used as a tool first, cutting cane or other crops” said Craig Powell, TOPS general manager. “As a tool, the pinky is usually in the hole so that the knife can hang down from the hand while the user is picking up the harvest, and then it is swung back into the hand to use the cutting edge.

“I wouldn’t say there is a set rule on the size of the hole,” he added, “but too small makes it easy for fingers to get stuck, which can equal broken fingers or de-gloved fingers in situations where the knife can’t be dropped when needed. Too large makes the knife clunky to use and manipulate properly and too easy to drop. Definitely, there is a balance to be struck. The hole size we use for our karambits does vary somewhat with the overall size of the knife. Typically, the smaller the overall size, the less likely someone is going to use the knife while wearing gloves, so you can use a smaller hole to keep the overall profile of the knife smaller.”

The characteristic ring in the butt of the karambit adds versatility, and Iovito sees advantages in several areas.

“The ring allows rapid grip changes, secure retention of a short blade under stress, and manipulation without dropping the tool. On our CQB Tool, for example, the ring lets a user transition to a pistol grip in a pinch without discarding the blade. We use PEO Soldier [U.S. Army Program Executive Office] data on the average-gloved-finger size for reliable use with gloves. Our research points to about a 1 1/8-inch internal diameter as optimal—big enough for manipulation and glove use without binding, yet not so large that control gets sloppy or the blade flops on the finger. Too small risks pinching, circulation issues, and snagging; too large compromises indexing and retention.”

Michael Janich, special projects coordinator at Spyderco, agrees that the karambit has an agricultural lineage but adds that the island archipelagos of the Pacific, where the design developed, will often provide different cultural backgrounds to its story.

“After harvesting a bundle of vegetables, the handle was released, allowing the knife to hang from the pinky, freeing both hands to tie the bundle,” Janich reasoned. “In contrast, sheathing the knife every time was inefficient and would require the blade to be cleaned to prevent soiling the inside of the sheath. Logically and practically, this makes sense. Some stories of the origin of the karambit, though, suggest that it was developed primarily as a weapon.”

Arched/rounded handle cutouts can add torsional strength as seen on the Enyo by Spartan Blades.
Arched/rounded handle cutouts can add torsional strength as seen on the Enyo by Spartan Blades.

As for the dimensions of the karambit and its characteristic hole, Janich points out that some tools defined as karambits of Southeast Asian origin do not even sport the hole. Nonetheless, the hole defines the karambit today.

“The karambit is not the only historical knife to have a ring,” Michael added. “The Japanese kunai was a trowel-like tool that had a ring at the end of the handle. The ring could be used to enhance grip retention. It also allowed the tool to be hung from a cord for easy transport or for the attachment of a lanyard. The Chinese martial arts also had daggers with butt-mounted rings. In some systems of kung fu, the rings had no specific purpose and only served as pommels. The bird and trout knife, first introduced by Marble’s, also had a pommel ring. Of integral construction, the handle portion of the knife was very narrow, so the ring provided both retention and grip stability.”

Attraction Of The Design

Universally in the world of knives, the hole or ring has its place, its moment, its degree of usefulness. Ultimately, the user chooses the tool that suits the task at hand, and the presence of the hole, for easy opening, control or enhanced utility, is always a candidate for deployment.

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Wa Handle: Japanese Ergonomics Are Revolutionizing Custom Kitchen Knives

User-friendly custom takes on the classic Japanese knife handle abound.

The Japanese influence in kitchen knives is more or less a given. Those who work in food preparation, an art form unto itself, appreciate the style and utilitarian feel that the Japanese culture exerts on their vocation.

The kitchen knife has seen a wave of custom makers taking that context a step further. The knife is an extension of the hand and that extension starts with the handle. So, here again the ergonomics of Japanese influence emerge. The wa handle brings comfort and confidence to the kitchen user while also providing a sense of form, function and artistic expression for the custom maker.

The wa handle of Aidan Garrity’s santoku has largely parallel sides to the width of the ricasso with a small ‘beak’ at the bottom for hand retention and aesthetics. Blade steel: mosaic damascus. Vintage butterscotch Micarta® scales boast flat-shield cross-sections and G-10 spacers. Overall length: 14 inches. His list price for a similar knife: $2,300. Its sister piece is a Garrity nakiri that was featured on the March 2024 BLADE® cover. (SharpByCoop image)
The wa handle of Aidan Garrity’s santoku has largely parallel sides to the width of the ricasso with a small ‘beak’ at the bottom for hand retention and aesthetics. Blade steel: mosaic damascus. Vintage butterscotch Micarta® scales boast flat-shield cross-sections and G-10 spacers. Overall length: 14 inches. His list price for a similar knife: $2,300. Its sister piece is a Garrity nakiri that was featured on the March 2024 BLADE® cover. (SharpByCoop image)

According to maker Jacob Anstaett, the name itself is rooted in the Japanese language.

“Wa comes from the Japanese language and broadly translates as ‘harmony’ or ‘balance,’” he explained. “In knifemaking, it refers to the traditional Japanese handle style, which emphasizes simplicity, lightness and an ergonomic connection between the handle and the blade.”

Anstaett further defines the wa handle as “lightweight with forward-balanced design. Typically, it is either octagonal, oval or D-shaped in cross-section. The handle is crafted as a separate piece that fits onto a hidden tang rather than a full tang. The construction is what gives the blade its distinct balance, where the cutting edge feels alive in your hand instead of weighed down.”

A resident of Plano, Texas and a custom knifemaker for eight years, Jacob says his wa handle is an interpretation of the Japanese style.

Alex Töpfer described his wa-handled piece as “a general-purpose kitchen knife based on various santoku. The blade is 80CrV2 as it’s a good general steel I can forge and heat treat. The handle is Tasmanian blackwood to add some fanciness, and the same is true for the bronze bolster. It’s functional art you can appreciate as you use it to cook.” His price for a similar knife: $325. (Rod Hoare image)
Alex Töpfer described his wa-handled piece as “a general-purpose kitchen knife based on various santoku. The blade is 80CrV2 as it’s a good general steel I can forge and heat treat. The handle is Tasmanian blackwood to add some fanciness, and the same is true for the bronze bolster. It’s functional art you can appreciate as you use it to cook.” His price for a similar knife: $325. (Rod Hoare image)

“It’s best described as a variation of the traditional wa,” he explained. “I keep the core geometry usually as an octagon cross-section, but I adapt the dimensions slightly for comfort. Western chefs often prefer a little more thickness and resilience, so I adjust proportions while preserving the forward balance that makes wa handles so effective.”

Jacob devoted extensive time to the study of traditional Japanese wa handles and then embarked on his road to interpretation.

“Over time I developed my own hybrid approach,” he commented. “My reasoning was simple: I wanted to honor tradition while building something that stands up to modern kitchens. For instance, I blend traditional shapes with stabilized woods or composites, ensuring they can handle daily use in a busy Western kitchen without losing the essence of the Japanese design.”

What Makes A Wa Handle?

Elaborating on the spirit and style of the wa, Aidan Garrity of Iron Lion Blades in Madison, Connecticut remarked, “There are two schools of thought for what exactly categorizes as a wa handle. One is that the handle’s construction involves a hole the width of the knife’s tang being drilled into the handle, and the tang being enclosed in a slotted dowel to tightly fit into that round cavity. The other is that it is simply the style of the handle, usually slimline and often having angular geometries. For questions like these, I always answer with the understanding that it is just the style of the handle, but I personally consider the true wa handle to be one utilizing the dowel bedding construction.”

The wa handle of Mert Tansu’s gyuto has a half-inch-wide, 4-inch dowel (above) with a tang slot cut into it. “It is a traditional-shaped wa except for the internal structure,” Mert wrote. “While most Japanese blades are mounted to the handle with burning the tangs in, this is not possible with a hard timber-like ringed gidgee, and I glued mine in.”
The wa handle of Mert Tansu’s gyuto has a half-inch-wide, 4-inch dowel (above) with a tang slot cut into it. “It is a traditional-shaped wa except for the internal structure,” Mert wrote. “While most Japanese blades are mounted to the handle with burning the tangs in, this is not possible with a hard timber-like ringed gidgee, and I glued mine in.”

Australian custom knifemaker Mert Tansu follows the wa tradition with his own interpretation. His perspective includes a geometric aspect that broadens the possibilities with the style.

“Wa handles come in a few different geometries,” he related, “from round to oval, to semi-octagonal to full octagonal and D-shape. Compared to their Western counterparts they are not sculpted and flat. Most of the traditional wa handles will have a horn ferrule and magnolia wood body.”

The wa handle of Mert Tansu’s gyuto has a half-inch-wide, 4-inch dowel (above) with a tang slot cut into it. “It is a traditional-shaped wa except for the internal structure,” Mert wrote. “While most Japanese blades are mounted to the handle with burning the tangs in, this is not possible with a hard timber-like ringed gidgee, and I glued mine in.”
The wa handle of Mert Tansu’s gyuto has a half-inch-wide, 4-inch dowel (above) with a tang slot cut into it. “It is a traditional-shaped wa except for the internal structure,” Mert wrote. “While most Japanese blades are mounted to the handle with burning the tangs in, this is not possible with a hard timber-like ringed gidgee, and I glued mine in.”

Mert’s featured knife is a gyuto from his Hunter Valley Blades series of traditional Japanese chef’s knives with forged finishes and usually san-mai construction. He employed a dowel-bedding construction for the wa handle (page 16). He characterizes his chef’s knives as affordable and less time consuming to make than other custom types.

Specific features of the wa handle style translate into precision and control in the kitchen. He says that the flats allow the user to index the knife with ease. Despite the “stop sign” shape, the octagonal handle is quite comfortable and fashioned with precision on his disc grinder. Optimal length is a subjective question, but Mert likes paring knives with wa handles no longer than 4.7 inches, while handles of 5.3 to 5.5 inches work best in larger chef’s knives with overall lengths of 9.5 inches. For long slicing knives of overall lengths of 10.5 inches, he indicated he prefers a handle between 5.7 and 5.9 inches.

Wa Handle Interpretations

A custom knifemaker for seven years at his home near Melbourne, Australia, Alex Töpfer appreciates the employment of the hidden tang in his knife construction, and he says the wa-inspired handle works in both the active and aesthetic aspects of kitchen use.

“Obviously, I’m inspired by various styles of wa handles, specifically octagonal ones,” he commented, “and also the use of brass bolsters and guards in the Western context. The flats here are more to provide context with the organic, curved aspects of the wood grain and forged texture.

“I do think it’s important to have a flat [handle] surface that aligns with the blade, but the upper parts are more for looks. There is also the question of what an individual user likes. Personally, I prefer to use oval hidden-tang handles, but I do the occasional faceted one for practice and a change. I’ve only had problems when the tang is not long enough. So, I tend to go 2.75 to 3.15 inches of tang. That will support the handle during use. I have had issues with burl where the grain didn’t provide any strength, but a longer tang on that knife would have avoided the problem. Also, fancier materials might be easier to sell even if they’re not ideal. I like recycled ironbark but it doesn’t have that bling factor.”

The traditional handle of Dew Hara’s suigetsu has stabilized burl scales and a copper bolster. The 7-inch blade is tamahagane steel with a hamaguri grind. Overall length: 12.4 inches. (SharpByCoop image)
The traditional handle of Dew Hara’s suigetsu has stabilized burl scales and a copper bolster. The 7-inch blade is tamahagane steel with a hamaguri grind. Overall length: 12.4 inches. (SharpByCoop image)

Garrity demonstrates his skill with the wa in his mosaic damascus santoku blade that combines 1095 and 52100 carbon and 15N20 nickel-alloy steels. He used the Ferry Flip method* and then placed the multi-bar construction to be framed by a monosteel edge and spine bars. Aidan’s santoku has a sister blade, a nakiri featured on the cover of the March 2024 BLADE® (page 13). He made the nakiri with the same bar of mosaic damascus as his santoku.

“This handle is of my own design. It has largely parallel sides to the width of the ricasso with a small ‘beak’ at the bottom for hand retention, as well as aesthetics. It wasn’t based on any particular style,” he noted, “but it does categorize as a shield-shaped wa handle. The flats lend themselves to helping the user maintain proper edge alignment while cutting, as an overly round grip doesn’t offer much [user feedback]. In addition, the flats are somewhat easier to bring to a high finish.”

In constructing a wa handle, Aidan leans heavily on the length of the blade.

“Typically, 4½ to 5½ inches is seen as a natural range to balance average length and weighted blades,” he remarked. “Thicker and wider blades like nakiri and bunka will often be more forward weighted compared to the more generalist shapes like santoku. The handle is often too slim with poor retention for any large chopping blades or fighters. It’s best to stick to kitchen knives for this type of handle design.”

Eric Hemker uses synthetic tortoise shell for the wa handle of his chef’s knife. The flat-ground 7.785-inch blade is a damascus of 1084 carbon and 15N20 nickel-alloy steels. The spacers are green, black and white G-10. Overall length: 14 inches. (SharpByCoop image)
Eric Hemker uses synthetic tortoise shell for the wa handle of his chef’s knife. The flat-ground 7.785-inch blade is a damascus of 1084 carbon and 15N20 nickel-alloy steels. The spacers are green, black and white G-10. Overall length: 14 inches. (SharpByCoop image)

The where, why and how of the wa are revealed in various interpretations, put to work with enthusiasm in the kitchen, and exhibit style and beauty whether in the midst of meal preparation or displayed for all to see. Their aesthetic is timeless, but so is their capacity to make the work of the chef an adventure in creativity.

*Editor’s Note: Named in honor of its creator, award-winning bladesmith Tom Ferry, the Ferry Flip is a variation on the canned steel technique. It basically consists of cutting slices at a 35-degree angle off the end of a damascus billet. The resulting tiles are rotated and forge welded together to form a new billet. As a result, instead of the pattern showing on the end of the new billet, the pattern repeats itself along the new billet’s face.

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